


Fear

by aravenwood



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Incredible Hulk (2008)
Genre: Batman References, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Bruce Banner Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fear, Gen, General Ross (Mentioned) - Freeform, Hurt Bruce Banner, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mild Gore, Poor Bruce Banner, Protective Avengers, Protective Tony Stark, Psychological Torture, Science Bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 15:26:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14772239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aravenwood/pseuds/aravenwood
Summary: The Avengers find Bruce after he's captured by General Ross, but quickly they find out that there's something seriously wrong. Why won't Bruce let them touch him? And why is he crying?





	Fear

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So I was watching a really old episode of that show Man from UNCLE, and in this episode Solo walks in and finds Kuryakin cowering and sobbing and begging not to be touched, and that scene just would not leave me alone until I started to write this. Because daaaaaamn that was an awesome scene. And so, this was born. Poor Bruce, he just can't seem to catch a break. Actually...none of the characters I write can... *evil grin*.
> 
> Hope you like it!

From the moment they reached Bruce, Tony knew that something was seriously wrong. From the violence of his capture and the footage they had seen of his past imprisonments, they weren't expecting to find a happy, healthy physicist. But this...this was wrong. Ross had him tied to a surgical table with straps around his ankles, wrists and chest, an oxygen mask with thick clear tubes running to it covering most of his features. But Tony could still make out his soft brown eyes and the way they stared fearfully up at the ceiling as if he was seeing something that none of the others could. There were tears on his cheeks.

“It’s ok, bud. We're here now, we're going to get you out of here,” Tony soothed as he closed the distance to the table and took his place next to Bruce’s head. He leaned forwards so that he was in the other man’s line of sight, wincing at every half-healed bruise and fresh scar he found in his quick scan of the shirtless body spread out in front of him. The worst of the injuries was a thick red scar running from the middle of his chest to just above his waist. It sickened Tony because he remembered seeing a scar there before; white and almost invisible to the eye.

They'd dissected Bruce before, and they had done it again now. Tony wanted to be sick at the thought of his friend and lab partner screaming and thrashing as masked “scientists” lowered a scalpel to his bare chest, but he breathed carefully through his nose and forced himself to smile when he wanted to cry. “It’s ok, Brucie,” he repeated and placed a gentle hand on Bruce’s shoulder.

Bruce screamed. It was hoarse and muffled by the mask, but there was no mistaking the absolute terror behind it, not when his eyes grew even wider and he started to fight against the leather straps, wounds reopening and bleeding heavily. The pain that had to come with the struggling didn't slow Bruce, only seemed to make him fight even harder. Tears fell fast and hard, pooling in his tangled and greasy hair.

It took Tony a few seconds to pull back. He didn't want to, he wanted to keep holding Bruce until he realised he was safe. But the panic didn't lessen, seemed to get worse the longer he held on, and the knowledge that he was causing this made it hard for him to breathe. “Bruce…” he croaked, feeling more helpless than he had in a long time. He looked desperately over his shoulder at his teammates, who looked almost as shaken as he felt - Steve looked like he wanted to cry, big blue eyes filled with pain and misery, while Natasha and Clint looked ready to tear Ross and his team limb from limb. Tony wished that Thor wasn't on Asgard because he was sure that the demigod would do something - anything - to force them into action. As it was, everyone was afraid to move, to make even a single noise for fear of setting Bruce off once more.

It was Clint who moved first. He stood where Tony had been standing and placed a hand firstly on the mask covering Bruce’s nose and mouth, then on Bruce’s chest, fingers landing on the strap and pointedly avoiding any skin on skin contact. He waited for a few seconds, then withdrew his hand and frowned. “He never had one of these in the tapes, why would Ross give him one now? Can't imagine the old bastard doing anything to help Doc,” he said, eyes meeting Tony’s for a moment, then moving on to the others one by one. His jaw was tight and his hand clenched around his bow, but the free one trembled a little the way it had the day Tony tracked down the tapes and the rest of the team refused to allow him to watch them alone - he'd been pissed at the time but by the time they reached the end of the first tape he was more relieved than he could ever express.

Tony, mimicking Clint’s expression, followed the tubing to a large white canister with no label but a series of numbers and letters written in what seemed to be permanent marker. He didn't know exactly what it was, but it sure as hell wasn't oxygen like they had originally assumed. Without sparing the chemical formula a further thought, he rushed back to Bruce’s side and tore the mask off, tossing it to the side. He heard Natasha mutter something under her breath as she adjusted the canister so that none of the whatever-it-was would leak into the room and affect any of them.

“Bruce? Can you hear me, bud? You don't need to talk, just let me know you're in there, huh? Come on, bud,” Tony called, clenching his hands at his sides just to stop himself from trying to touch Bruce instead. The fear was still there in those warm eyes as they twitched around the room. It was clear now that he was hallucinating, presumably because of the mysterious gas they had been pumping into his lungs. Hopefully now that it was gone he would come back to them.

But the fear lingered. As Tony once more touched Bruce’s shoulder, the frightened man flinched and let out a long, desperate whimper as tears once more welled in his eyes. His eyes met Tony’s, a gesture so surprising that Tony actually jumped a little before he was able to stop it. Then Bruce whimpered again and twisted in his bonds. His movements were weaker now as he exhausted himself with his panic, but he was blinking rapidly as he forced himself to remain conscious. “...don’t hurt them I'm trying, I'm trying but it isn't working, please I've tried this isn't their fault…” he sobbed, his breath hitching every few words. His entire body was shaking, maybe from cold or from shock, or both.

Tony squeezed Bruce’s shoulder, drawing another, weaker flinch, and turned his attention to the bonds. They didn't look complicated but pulling on them would only cause Bruce more pain. As he tried to decide if using the suit’s laser would hurt the other man, Natasha was suddenly at his side and slicing through each of the leather straps with her knife. The motions were quick and precise and it was only a matter of seconds before Bruce was free. Immediately, he tried to roll on his side and curl up, but stilled suddenly and didn't move another inch. “Sorry, so sorry,” he mumbled brokenly.

“Shhh, just relax Doc, we're getting you out of here,” Natasha soothed, tucking the knife away as she backed up to give Bruce the space he needed. Her eyes rose to meet Tony’s as he nodded his thanks.

A few seconds later and Steve was standing where Natasha had been, a thick blanket in his side. For a moment Tony wondered where he'd pulled it from but remembered Steve’s rucksack. He wondered what else was in it. “We're here to take you home, Doctor Banner. But let's get you warm first,” Steve said lowly as he draped the blanket over Bruce’s shivering form. The physicist hummed and pulled it closer around himself, even going as far as to bury his head beneath it so that all they could see was the tangled mess of curls.

“How are we going to do this?” Clint asked, “he’s so scared there's no way anyone is carrying him without listening to him scream the whole way back.”

Tony flinched at the bluntness. “Charming as usual, Hunger Games. Besides, he's not going to scream, look he's calming down already.”

Bruce let out a hoarse sob and the curls disappeared beneath the blanket.

“What was that, Stark?” Clint called, one eyebrow quirked. He smirked weakly as Tony glared at him.

“We could wait until he passes out,” Steve suggested. “It’s clear that he's barely hanging on, it won't be long before everything gets the better of him. Being scared for as long as he's been is enough to knock anyone out.”

Tony hated to admit it, but that was their best chance of getting Bruce back to the Quinjet. While a lot of the guards wouldn't be getting up any time soon - or ever - they'd been unable to find Ross and as much as Tony wanted to kill the bastard for everything he'd put Bruce through, getting his friend back to the tower was his main concern right now. He sighed heavily and leaned on the table next to Bruce’s feet. “Hunger Games and Incy Wincy, you guys wanna go ahead and clear a path for us to bring him? And if you see Ross...leave some for us.”

Clint saluted with two fingers and pulled an arrow from his quiver as he headed for the door. Natasha smirked and pulled out a gun from the holster on her thigh. “No promises,” she said and followed behind her teammate. Then it was just Tony and Steve left with Bruce.

For a few moments Tony could do nothing but stare at the quivering form on the table and breathe. How could anyone do this to the sweet, kind, insecure Bruce who wanted nothing more than to be left alone? The idea made Tony want to be sick, made him want to wrap Bruce up in more blankets and hold him close until anyone who could ever want to hurt him was gone. But Bruce would never allow that.

“We should get him moving,” Steve commented.

“We should wait until he's asleep,” Tony corrected tersely.

“Bruce?” A few moments passed in which Bruce didn't even stir. Steve reached a hand forwards and pulled the blanket away from the physicist’s face, revealing his slack and bruised face. “We should get him moving,” Steve repeated with a quirked brow. Tony scrunched his face childishly. Steve only smirked.

Bruce was trembling even as he slept, the fear he'd displayed before carrying over into his dreams. He whimpered as Tony slipped his arms around the quivering frame. “...don’t...stop...hurts…” Bruce sobbed, burying his face in the blanket.

“No one is going to hurt you,” Tony hushed, shifting one hand to stroke Bruce’s hair until the muttering fell silent. Then he returned his hands to their former position and lifted Bruce to his chest, while Steve hovered with his hands half-outstretched like he was expecting Tony to drop the bundle of Bruce and blanket. “I've got him, Capsicle,” Tony grunted and turned towards the door.

Steve stopped him with an outstretched arm. “I'll go first,” he insisted. Tony rolled his eyes but gestured with a wave of his wrist for the supersoldier to lead the way.

He looked down at Bruce, whose expression was now tight and his eyes squeezed tight shut. “It’s ok, bud. It's all over now and we'll be home soon, I promise.”

\-----

It wasn’t until they’d been back in the tower for several hours that Bruce began to regain consciousness. Tony’s concern was no secret; he’d taken up a watch next to Bruce’s bed, feet up and his tablet untouched on his lap. The others routinely stuck their heads in, acting as if they hadn’t settled on the couch in Bruce’s private sitting room and weren’t listening for even the quietest noise from the bedroom. But Bruce seemed oblivious to their concern because he remained stubbornly unconscious.

When he came to, however, he more than made up for the hours of silence. A scream burst from his throat as he bolted upright and scrambled out of bed, squeezing himself into the corner and burying his face in his knees. His breaths were so loud that Tony could hear them on the other side of the room, and he wanted nothing more than to gather Bruce in his arms and rock him like an infant until he calmed. That would only make things worse, though.

In a matter of seconds, the others joined him in the room with weapons at the ready. Tony couldn’t blame them - Bruce really did sound like he was being violently assaulted right in front of them, and if Tony hadn’t been there every moment of the last few hours then he would be ordering JARVIS to scan the entire building for intruders.

“What the hell happened?” Clint asked, spinning quickly as he searched the room. He somehow managed to look threatening in a pair of sweatpants and bare feet.

“It’s fine, it’s fine, stand down you paranoid freaks. Unless you want to try and shoot his nightmares away, that is. Anybody?” Tony raised his eyebrows expectantly, barely keeping the wobble from his voice.

No one spoke, but Steve did lower his shield and take a step towards Bruce’s huddled form. “What did they do to him?” he hissed.

Tony shrugged. “Some kind of drug, maybe something in the gas. Guess Ross wanted to scare the big guy green.”

Bruce whimpered and curled himself further in on himself, hiccupping around a sob. It was such a heartbreaking noise that Tony’s chest tightened and his eyes stung with tears. He took a deep breath and fell into a crouch only a few inches away from Bruce.

“Stark…” Steve said lowly. As concerned as he was, it seemed that the soldier in Steve made him unable to get past the idea of Bruce as a threat. It was almost humorous to imagine this tiny quivering bundle as anything other than an innocent man who needed to be protected.

“Cap…” Tony mimicked. He shot Steve a warning look before turning his attention back to Bruce. “Hey, bud. It’s ok, it’s over I promise. You’re home and we’re here and we aren’t going to let Ross touch you again.”

Surprisingly, Bruce shifted and peered up at Tony, eyes scrunched and fearful as he prepared himself for an attack. They briefly met Tony’s before scanning the rest of the room, tears still streaming down his cheeks. “...what?” he mumbled, his voice cracked and broken. “How did I..?” He broke off as his breath hitched with another sob.

“We got you back, and we’re not going to let him get you ever again,” Tony reassured as he inched forwards. Bruce flinched at the movement but seemed to relax as his eyes met Tony’s once more. He was looking at each of them as if he couldn’t believe they were really there, or as if he was expecting them to disappear at any moment.

“...dead…” he said finally.

“Who’s dead?” Steve said softly, any hesitance he’d displayed before gone as he crouched just behind Tony. Clint and Natasha held back so as to avoid crowding Bruce. They wore matching blank expressions to hide the pain it caused hearing their teammate so afraid.

Bruce lowered his eyes to his knees and tightened his arms around them so that he looked even smaller. He took a deep, shuddering breath as if to gather himself before looking up at Steve again. “You. All of you. Dead. I...I killed you all.”

Tony was sure that every one of their hearts stopped at that moment. All of a sudden none of them could look at Bruce, each of them turning away just so he wouldn’t see the absolute rage in their expressions. Tony covered his face with one hand and felt a few stray tears land on his fingers. What the hell had Ross done to make Bruce think that he’d killed them?

“Bruce…” His voice cracked and he stopped to clear his throat. As he opened his mouth to continue, he couldn’t come up with a single word to say that would make any of this better, even a little. Ross had kept Bruce for several days, had he thought the entire time that he’d killed his teammates and friends? It was such a horrible thought that Tony felt bile rise in his throat. He swallowed thickly.

Steve was the one who recovered first. “Doctor Banner, you didn’t kill any of us. I don’t know what Ross did to make you think that, but it’s a lie. Alright?” he said gently, placing a hand on Bruce’s knee. He pulled back as the smaller man flinched but caught himself and returned his hand to its former position.

“You think you can get rid of us that easily, Doc?” Natasha commented, a weak smile on her lips. At her side, her hand was clenched so tightly that it trembled.

Bruce didn’t say anything. He looked between his teammates, searching their expressions as if looking for something to prove that he was right and they truly were dead. It was clear that he found nothing, because his expression suddenly crumbled and he dropped his head back to his knees, shoulders shaking as he sobbed silently. Tony didn’t hesitate to push past Steve and gather the physicist in his arms, holding him close and rocking him, all the while telling him that everything was alright.

The two of them stayed like that for a while, the others looking on silently without offering anything of their own. None of them were arrogant enough to think that they were closer to Bruce than Tony was, and they knew that right now he needed his best friend above all else. It was only when Bruce looked shyly up that they closed the distance, letting him press himself close to each of them in turn. He wasn’t a tactile man and as nice as it was for him to trust them enough to cling to them the way he did, the fact that it was down to that gas and absolute terror left a sour taste in Tony’s mouth.

“He called it fear gas,” Bruce croaked as Clint dropped his chin to rest on the physicist’s head. “Ross, that is. He...he said that I had to see the kind of monster that I am...like I don’t know that already.”

Tony opened his mouth to argue that Bruce wasn’t a monster and how dare Ross bring back those horrible thoughts they had worked so hard to get out of their friend’s head, but he knew that it wouldn’t help. Instead he said softly, “fear gas?”

“Like the Scarecrow,” Bruce confirmed. Tony raised an eyebrow and sent Clint a look. Had he somehow managed to get Bruce reading those comics of his? The little smirk on the archer’s lips confirmed that thought.

“I’m sorry, bud,” Tony said. Without a word Clint let him pull Bruce away and hug him close. “I’m so sorry he did that to you. I promise, he’s never touching you again. We’ll make sure of it.”

Bruce didn’t say anything. He just buried his face in Tony’s chest and cried. Ross was going to pay for this. He was going to pay for everything he had ever done to Bruce. Tony would make sure of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
